


Friendship

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-20
Updated: 2002-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser is with Kowalski and Vecchio wants to be.





	Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Friendship

## Friendship

by Lucy Britt

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Notes: 

Story Notes: Slight spoilers for Call of the Wild and Strange Bedfellows.

* * *

Disclaimer - Due South and all its characters belong to Alliance. 

Friendship by Lucy Britt 

The store was quiet, peaceful, a world away from the frenetic activity of the weekend. Ray hated grocery shopping on the weekends when scores of mothers and their screaming children would fight their way around the shelves and through the check-out lines. 

Yep, Ray Kowalski thought, it was definitely better shopping during the week even if it meant having to give up his lunch hour. Strictly speaking he didn't have an official lunch hour, of course. Work came first, over food, sleep, everything, even Fraser. 

Ray paused in front of the pasta section, the choice was bewildering and seemed to grow larger every week. Spaghetti or tagliatelle, penne or farfella. It was, at the end of the day, all the same. Italians! Ray rolled his eyes but that thought just took him straight back to Ray Vecchio, his almost brand-new partner and he really didn't want to think about that. Despite himself he did. Following his and Fraser's adventure looking for the Hand of Franklin they had expected life to return to normal, until that is, Ray Vecchio, dissatisfied with life in Florida had moved back to Chicago and back to his old job. Ray still didn't know if he liked the guy or not. 

Ray was almost pleased when a gunshot rang out and disrupted his thoughts. A man's gruff voice ordered everyone to get down on the floor. Ray moved forward slowly, thank God the store was almost empty. He was almost at the end of the aisle and could see the ashen-faced assistant pushing dollar bills into a black rucksack. A man, mean-looking and with a gut like a beachball was waving a gun in her face. Ray turned his head; there was an old couple lying next to the biscuits and a middle-aged woman was sprawled shaking by the pasta sauces. 

"Hey you," the man turned, one blue eye and one brown eye glaring at Ray, "I said hit the dirt." 

"All right," Ray put his hands over his head, "stay calm, no one has to get hurt here." 

Scowling fiercely the man turned away from the female assistant and took a menacing step towards Ray. 

"Is that a gun?" Ray carefully drew his weapon and tossed it away from himself but as his hand pulled the gun from the holster the store's overhead lighting glinted off his badge. "You're a cop?" 

There wasn't time to call out a warning. The assistant taking advantage of the robber's preoccupation with Ray had pressed the alarm and the man's reaction was instantaneous - the young woman dropped without a sound. 

"What's the situation?" Lieutenant Welsh strode across the street, calling out to the uniformed cop who had been first on the scene. 

"We've got four, maybe five hostages inside, including Detective Kowalski and the guy with the gun." 

"Okay the swat team's on its way. Is the manager here yet?" 

"On his way." 

"Great." Welsh stuck his hands in his pockets. "Let me know as soon as he gets here." 

The overwrought screech of a car's brakes brought Welsh spinning round and he groaned. Ray Vecchio, Benton Fraser and his deaf wolf Diefenbaker were leaping out of one of the poolcars. Welsh had been hoping that they wouldn't get wind of what was happening, he wanted to get Kowalski out of the store alive and he wanted to do it by the book. 

The whole thing with Vecchio, Kowalski and the Mountie had him bothered. Not the tension between Kowalski and Vecchio. The two had been pretty explosive at first but Welsh had sorted that one out pretty quickly. It was the tension between Vecchio and Fraser that really bothered him. For one there wasn't anything he could do about it and number two he had the uncanny feeling that it all had something to do with Kowalski. 

Unofficially he'd known about Fraser and Kowalski's relationship practically since it had started. Something had changed between them after the pirate adventure and it hadn't taken him long to work out what it was. Officially they were just friends, like they'd always been. But Welsh had the uneasy sense that Fraser wasn't the only one who wanted to bed Kowalski. 

"What's going on? Is Stan okay?" Vecchio demanded breathlessly, pulling his overcoat closer around his slender frame as a light drizzle began to drift down from the sky. 

"Sir!" A yell from the uniform, prevented Welsh from answering Vecchio's question. "The manager's here." 

A thin, nervous-looking man with a shoe lace moustache was heading towards Welsh. He looked deeply unhappy at having been called upon. 

"Thanks for coming." Welsh nodded his head. 

"George Murphy," the manager of the store held out a small hand. 

"Lieutenant Welsh," the gruff-voiced man indicated his companions. "Detective Vecchio and Constable Benton Fraser RCMP." 

"How can I help you Lieutenant?" 

"There's a gunman in your store, we need information, entrances, exits, how many staff you have in there." 

"One," Mr. Murphy replied quickly, "Tuesday is not exactly our busiest day. As to entrances and exits there's the door onto the street and there's a back way out." 

"Great!" 

"But we keep it bolted from the inside." He could see the disappointment on the faces around him. "There's a telephone in there if that's any help." 

"It means we can talk to the gunmen," Vecchio had his cellphone in his hand, "find out what's going on in there." 

The phone above the till had started ringing and the noise made Ray's head ache. He glanced up at his captor from where he was kneeling on the floor. "You gonna answer that?" 

His only reply was a blow to the side of his head. With his hands bound behind his back Ray couldn't steady himself and he collapsed. But the gunman did at least pick up the phone. 

"It's someone called Welsh," the robber glanced down at Ray whose nose was bleeding heavily, "Do you know him?" 

"He's my lieutenant," Ray croaked, "lemme talk to him." 

The robber just scowled at him again and proceeded to list his demands. "And I want 'em in half an hour otherwise I'm gonna kill your man." 

Welsh gave the phone back to Vecchio. "We wait for the swat team." He could see the detective wanted to argue the point with him but Welsh was actually more concerned about Fraser. The normally garrulous Mountie hadn't said a word and Welsh wasn't sure that boded well. 

Fraser stepped closer to the lieutenant a look of deep concern on his face. "With your permission sir I'd like to try to get into the store." 

"Permission denied. Constable I appreciate your concern but we have to wait." 

Fraser nodded and Welsh breathed his relief, the last thing he needed was for the Mountie to decide to take matters into his own hands. 

With trembling hands Fraser started to remove his red serge jacket. It was his friend in there, his partner, his lover, he couldn't just stand idly by. 

Vecchio watched from where he was perched on the hood of the car and scowled. He knew Fraser was about to do something stupid. Not that he blamed him; he too felt like doing something stupid, anything was better than this interminable waiting. 

It had been a shock for Ray Vecchio arriving back into his life to find a blonde Polack pretending to be him. Even more of a shock to find that said Polack was as good as shacked up with Fraser and had been for the past six months. 

Ray wasn't jealous exactly, he had felt something for Fraser once but that had been a long time ago and circumstances had been too difficult to allow the feelings to grow into anything more. At least he wasn't jealous of Kowalski's relationship with Fraser, more the other way round. The trouble was that the pair were so devoted to each other that he wasn't going to get a look in. Not unless he did something drastic. 

"Constable!" Welsh's shout roused Vecchio from his thoughts and looking round he saw Fraser walking towards the store. 

"What does he think he's doing?" Vecchio asked, suddenly wishing he was walking alongside Fraser. 

Ray Kowalski could sense the robber's growing unease although from his position on the floor he could see no reason for it. 

"Excuse me..." Oh my God, that voice, Fraser! 

Ray! The Mountie could feel a ball of rage shaping itself in his stomach. Ray was lying on his side near the till, hands bound behind his back, his head resting in a pool of blood. Fraser was too preoccupied by the pitiful sight of his lover to notice the store assistant's body on the floor. 

No one afterwards seemed to be too clear about what had happened. All Kowalski remembered was a volley of barks, the sound of a gun being fired up into the air and then Fraser lifting him to his feet, gentle hands undoing his bonds. 

"Glad you could drop by," he smiled and the Mountie, normally so careful about showing affection towards Ray in public, wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders. Ray was shaking and Fraser embraced him, holding the shuddering body until it grew still. 

"Fraser," it was Welsh and Fraser gently detached himself from Kowalski, "you and I need to talk, what you did was reckless, some might even call it stupid." 

"He saved my life," Ray protested, "and theirs," he gestured at the other shoppers being led away by the cops. 

"More by luck than judgment." Welsh scowled. "Get out of here the pair of you. You can write your report at home detective." 

"You're sending me home and you want me to write a report?" Kowalski protested. 

"Go home!" 

Ray Vecchio watched the Mountie and the blonde cop leave, wishing he'd been the one to take Stan home. But Fraser had, so Vecchio went back to the district, and spent the rest of the afternoon pretending to work. In reality he was thinking about Stan and Fraser, imagining them together, bodies twined, each just an extension of the other. He wanted to be the one with Stan, it was meant to be him. They were partners after all. 

It was hardly surprising then that when Ray left the 27th on time for once he found himself driving to Stan's apartment. I'll just check in on him, make sure he's written that report, Ray told himself as he climbed the stairs. 

"Vecchio?" 

"Stan, how you doing?" Vecchio plastered on his brightest smile. "So you gonna let me in?" 

Kowalski blushed, stepped back from the door and Ray followed him not really noticing the clutter, too busy scanning the place for signs of Fraser. 

"Ben's not here," Stan answered the unspoken question. "He had to go back to the consulate, something about a daily report he had to fill in, so..." Kowalski's voice faltered when he realized that Vecchio wasn't about to leave, "you can catch him there." 

"I didn't come to see Fraser," Vecchio was glancing over Stan's CD collection and nodding his approval. 

"He told me about you both," Kowalski stammered noticing Vecchio's shoulders tense up. "Ya know the time you spent together, the time you were..." 

"What did he tell you?" Vecchio was still standing with his back to Kowalski. 

"You really wanna know?" Kowalski took a step forward. "You still feel something for him?" 

Vecchio's shoulders shuddered with silent laughter. "No, I don't feel anything for Fraser anymore." 

"Then why are you here?" 

Vecchio turned. Two strides and he was standing in front of Stan. "This is why." Vecchio captured the man's mouth, holding onto Kowalski's arms just tightly enough to stop the man from pulling away. Stan's lips parted underneath the assault and Vecchio stepped closer pressing his body against the other man's wiry frame. Gods but he wanted this man. 

"Vecchio!" Somehow Kowalski managed to break the kiss. 

"Admit you want me," Vecchio growled. 

Kowalski's blue eyes were full of doubt and he squirmed against the other man's grip. "You're hurting me." Then he flushed and a defiant look took up residence in his eyes. "Get away from me," he growled. 

"Or what?" Vecchio replied tauntingly, confident that Kowalski wouldn't push him away. 

"Or I'll kick you in the head." Defiance tempered with fear, Kowalski could feel just how strong Vecchio was, didn't know if he could beat him if it came to a fight. 

Neither man heard the key turning in the lock, the door being pushed open. "Ray I forgot..." 

It was Fraser, eyes wide as he took in the scene in front of him. Abruptly Vecchio released Kowalski who fell back a step, hands rubbing his arms where Vecchio had gripped him. 

"Ray," Fraser's eyes flitted from one face to the other. Kowalski refused to meet his gaze and the man looked deeply unhappy. Vecchio was glowering, angered by the interruption. 

"I'm gonna go now," Kowalski's hand was already closing on his jacket. He bolted past Fraser and Vecchio and practically fell down the stairs in his haste to get away. 

His mind was reeling with the knowledge that Ray Vecchio wanted him, that Ray Vecchio had held him, had kissed him and he'd almost liked it, enjoyed it. Sure the man was a million miles away from Fraser but... 

These thoughts had driven all memory of the afternoon's fear away. Kneeling in that store while the gunman paced back and forth in front of him Ray had not been able to escape the thought that he was about to die, that he would never see Fraser again. That's what he should be concentrating on. Fraser. After Stella Ray had thought he would never fall in love again, never trust anyone again and yet he loved Fraser, he trusted Fraser. 

Suddenly Ray wanted to turn around, run back upstairs to his apartment and show the Mountie exactly how grateful he was for being rescued but he couldn't do it because Vecchio was up there, the man who had for a brief time been Fraser's lover and the man who... the man who wanted him. 

In all the time since Welsh had first partnered him with Vecchio he hadn't thought of the man in that way. But now? But wasn't Fraser more than enough for anyone, certainly he should be more than enough for a skinny guy like him. 

Outside the night air hit him full in the face and he started running. He concentrated on the pounding of his feet on the sidewalk, the sound of his breathing, the beating of his heart. He didn't know what Fraser and Vecchio thought about his departure, didn't care, and wasn't surprised when at long last he stopped running to find himself outside the 27th. 

The night shift was pretty much always quiet or at least it was tonight, a perfect time for thinking, a perfect place to be when you couldn't go home. Stumbling, limbs heavy with fatigue, Ray made it over to his desk, pillowed his head on his arms and fell asleep. 

"Morning sleepy-head." Francesca put a coffee down in front of Kowalski who squinted up at her, why was Frannie in his apartment? "Have you been here all night?" Her second question made Ray realize that he was sitting at his desk. 

"I had some work to do," he explained wearily. Shit! Look at the time, Vecchio would be turning up any minute now. In fact just then Vecchio walked in side by side with Fraser, two pairs of anxious eyes fixed on Kowalski. 

Ray leapt to his feet, he wasn't sure he was up to this. "I've got a witness I need to um..." He pushed past the two men although he did briefly clutch at Fraser's fingers. 

Outside he halted, when had he become the running-away type? Hadn't he told Fraser once that you couldn't run away from your past that it was under your skin? Ray frowned. That had been about the time Fraser had given him the dreamcatcher that still hung at his bedroom window even now that he slept with Fraser, the best dreamcatcher of 'em all. 

Ray had known then that Fraser was special, unique, in many ways a freak. He'd felt the same way about Stella when he'd first met her. Stella and Ben, the faces tangled in his thoughts, joined now traitorlessly by Ray Vecchio's. 

Ray shook the images out of his mind and started walking, letting his feet take them where they would. He passed through the streets as though the world around him no longer existed, his head empty, he couldn't think about last night. Eventually he did come back to himself, glancing around, trying to get his bearings. 

"Ray!" 

"Fraser?" Momentary relief quickly turned into anger. "Have you been following me?" 

Fraser nodded and put his hands out, clutching Ray's shoulders. 

"What's up Ben? You've got something to say so c'mon spit it out." 

"I'm worried about you Ray." 

"That's it?" 

"It's not enough?" 

Ray sighed, running a hand through his hair. "C'mon Fraser, I can see that's not all. Don't try to tell me any different. I know you." 

"I found this," Fraser produced a folded sheet of paper from his tunic. 

"You've been going through my things?" 

"Well yes, no.... I mean I was doing some of your laundry last night - and Ray, if I may so, I really don't think you should leave your dirty washing strewn across the apartment. It's not very hygienic..." 

"Frase," Ray growled, "cut to the chase." 

"Understood." Fraser pulled himself straighter and Ray resisted a smile, it was one of the Mountie's many traits that he found endearing. "I found this in the pocket of one of your shirts." 

"And?" 

"Ray," Fraser smoothed his eyebrows while he searched for the right words, "while it's a quite lovely piece of poetry I found some of the imagery rather dark. Perhaps an example..." 

"Ben no. I wrote it, I know what it says." 

"Why did you write it Ray? Aren't you happy with me?" The emotion and fear in Fraser's voice made Ray blink away sudden tears. 

"It's an old poem," Ray admitted, "I wrote it when my marriage was going sour. Got it out the other day, I was gonna burn it but I think it slipped my mind." 

"What would you like me to do with it?" 

"Whatever." 

"Then I'll keep it," Fraser tucked the paper away again. "Ray I have to get back to the consulate." 

"Hey I'm fine. I guess I'll go back to work to." 

"D'ya want to get something to eat?" Ray Vecchio glanced across the squad room at his partner. "Or are you going to work all night?" 

"Naw, getting something to eat sounds good. How about pizza?" 

"I love pizza." Vecchio was grinning. It looked as though Stan had forgiven him for the other night, which meant, as far as he was concerned that he still had a chance. Not that even an outright rejection would have prevented Vecchio from taking what he wanted. And what he wanted was Ray. "We'll take my car." 

Kowalski nodded distractedly, Fraser was busy at the consulate tonight anyway. Jeez but the Ice Queen sure took advantage of him. 

"So baseball," Vecchio started trying to fill the awkward gap between arriving at the restaurant and the arrival of the pizza. 

"Baseball?" 

"Just trying to make conversation," Vecchio mumbled. 

Kowalski stared at the man. Vecchio was slender, almost bird-like. Fraser always made Ray think of a panther, dark and sleek and mysterious. Vecchio was more like an eagle, a bald-headed eagle. The analogy was strengthened by the man's beak-like nose and the overcoat that seemed to be a pretty much permanent feature. But there was more to it than that, Vecchio's air of looking down at everyone else for one. Kowalski sighed, the only image that came to mind when he thought about himself was of a puppy-dog. And he didn't like it, somehow ever since he had met Fraser it seemed to him that he had been running after the man, struggling to keep up, doing what Fraser wanted, being the person Fraser wanted him to be. Sometimes he just longed to break away from it all even though he knew full well that he loved Fraser with all his heart, that losing Fraser would kill him. Just need to shake it up a little, he mused, watching Vecchio from the corner of his eye and noting the way the older man's eyes were roaming across his body. 

Pizza. The unmistakable smell rose in Kowalski's nostrils and he savored it, now here was something the Italians did right. 

"You got that right." Vecchio was smiling at him around a mouthful of pizza and Ray realized that he must have spoken his thought out loud. "Beer?" Their fingers met as Vecchio passed the bottle to Kowalski and both men felt the jolt of electricity that jumped between them. 

"You know," Vecchio's voice was thick with lust and something else that Kowalski couldn't identify, mainly because he'd never experienced it before, never been in a situation where he wasn't given the choice, "we could get this to go." 

"Great idea," Kowalski looked up and almost changed his mind, there was a predatory look on Vecchio's eagle face and Kowalski shivered. 

Dammit, Kowalski thought, I'm gonna stop being a puppy-dog and perhaps a one-night-stand with Vecchio would prove to be just the catalyst he needed. He chose to ignore the fear, after all he'd been with Fraser, he knew what it was like. 

Kowalski didn't stop to think about Fraser. His head was spinning. Half a beer on an empty stomach and all thoughts of his lover had deserted him. 

It was a wonder Vecchio didn't crash the car he drove so fast and waiting for Stan to find the keys to his apartment was pure agony. Stan was going to be his, he'd wipe that arrogant smile off the man's face, show him what life and love were really like. 

The second the two men stepped through the door Vecchio had Kowalski pinned against a wall, kissing him roughly, hands up underneath the man's shirt, roaming wildly, setting Kowalski's skin on fire, barely pausing to kick the apartment door shut. 

Stan felt as though his body were about to explode, the sensations of Vecchio's lips on his, of Vecchio's nails raking his skin, of Vecchio's fingers teasing his nipples were almost too much to bear. It was all so unlike Fraser. It had taken the Mountie so long to confess that he actually liked Ray, that he couldn't stop thinking about him, that Ray had started to think he had read the signals all wrong. Maybe that was what divorce did to you, turned you into a novice in the ways of love again. 

Ben had never assaulted him like this and Kowalski didn't like it. It was an assault and the idea of that had never appealed to him. The memory of Fraser's gentle touch finally roused him and he pulled away from Vecchio, bringing his hands up to create a barrier between them. 

"You should leave." 

Vecchio just smiled at him, the confident smirk that said, "I know better than you," the one that Kowalski had long ago decided Vecchio had perfected on Fraser. 

"Please Ray." 

Now the smile was triumphant. Kowalski never called him Ray. This must mean I'm getting to him. There will be other nights. 

"Some other time then," Vecchio grinned and let himself out of the apartment, Kowalski pushed the door closed behind him with a faint moan of relief. 

When Fraser opened that same front door two hours later it was to find Ray slumped in a chair, staring blankly at the wall. 

"Ray? Ray?" No answer. "How long have you been sitting there?" 

"Don't know. Ten minutes. An hour maybe." Ray looked up and Fraser caught his breath, there was such pain in those blue eyes. Pain that the Mountie hadn't seen since the time when he and Ray had been assigned to bodyguard Alderman Orsini and Stella, Ray's ex-wife. Did that mean that Ray was thinking about Stella again? Fraser had tried so hard to wipe the pain away, to help Ray forget about Stella, to help him get over her and he had thought that he had achieved that. Had he been wrong? Had he perhaps been fooling himself, blinding himself to the fact that Ray was still in love with Stella, that Ray wanted to be with her? 

"Has something happened?" It was with difficulty that Fraser coaxed the words from his throat. "Stella..." 

"No Fraser," there must have been a catch in his voice because Ray had leapt to his feet and taken the Mountie's unresisting hands in his own. "It's not Stella, it's not been her for a long time." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah I'm sure." 

"You want to tell me what's wrong?" 

"No." 

"Understood." 

Jeez but he felt like such a heel. There was no mistaking the sadness in Fraser's eyes, sad that he couldn't help, sad that his lover wouldn't tell him what was wrong. But how could he tell him? He'd encouraged Vecchio and Fraser would be hurt. Ray didn't want that. 

"So did ya come here for a reason?" 

"Do I need one?" 

"No." Ray rubbed a hand across his eyes, suddenly he felt on the verge of tears. "You don't need a reason for anything." 

"Actually Ray I came to tuck you into bed." 

"That's nice Fraser," Ray let go of the Mountie's hands. "Hey where's Dief?" 

"At the consulate. He was a little unwilling to come with me and I think he's sulking. I'm not sure he appreciated my being in a meeting all afternoon." 

"Oh." Ray started to pull his t-shirt up over his head. Then he stopped Fraser suddenly seemed awkward. "Ben?" 

The Mountie looked confused, and then he nodded. "Ah I see you want me to get ready for bed." 

"Anytime this week'd be nice Fraser," despite the acerbic tone of his voice Ray still seemed upset and Fraser put his arms around the man. 

"Anytime you need to talk Ray I'll be here." 

Shit! How could he tell Fraser what was up with him, what had very nearly happened here in his apartment? And yet he knew Fraser would eventually find a way to wheedle the truth out of him. Didn't mean he had to tell him now though. 

As usual Fraser lay in the bed spooned around Ray who normally enjoyed the close contact. The Mountie seemed to give off so much heat that Ray never needed more than a sheet to cover himself. He had started having difficulty sleeping when Fraser wasn't there. But tonight he was finding Fraser's presence suffocating, reminding him of Vecchio's touch, Vecchio's assault. Ray found himself lying awake for hours, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. 

The morning was like any other. Ray and Fraser got up, showered and dressed. Ray drank coffee while Fraser brewed up some of that bark tea he was so fond of. 

It was Fraser's day off and he was wearing jeans and a shirt. Even clad in casual clothes he couldn't shed that upright Mountie stance and Ray felt something stirring inside him. He loved that about Fraser, oh yeah the way the man was always so upright no matter what he was doing; yeah that really butters my muffin. 

"Pardon Ray?" 

"Fraser?" 

"You want muffins for breakfast? You don't appear to have any... well in fact you don't appear to have much food at all. I could go and get some." 

"Fraser." 

"Yes Ray?" 

"Shut up." Ray kissed him then and was gratified to find that a familiar heat was flooding his body and he pressed himself against Fraser. 

"Ray. Ray. Ray Ray!" Fraser spoke around his partner's frantic kisses and reluctantly Kowalski detached himself. "You'll be late for work." 

"I'll call in sick." 

"Are you sick?" 

"No I'm not sick Fraser." 

"Then you should go to work." 

Kowalski didn't bother to argue, Fraser never gave in anyway. 

Fraser escorted Ray to the 27th and why not? After all, Ray thought, the only other place for him to go was the consulate and it was after all his day off. 

"Morning Stan, Benny." Vecchio's cheerful greeting rang out across the squad room and Kowalski would have turned right round again except Fraser was standing right behind him. There was a box of donuts sitting on his desk and Kowalski glared down at it. 

"Enjoy them," Vecchio was positively smirking at him, no scrub that, his partner was leering at him and from the expression on Fraser's face he felt sure the Mountie must have seen the look as well. 

"Fraser..." But the man had already put the Stetson back on his head, a sure sign that he was about to leave. 

"Frase..." He was gone, Fraser had walked out of the 27th without a word and Kowalski slumped down into the nearest chair and cradled his head in his hands. 

"Stan," Vecchio was standing behind him, one hand came into contact with Kowalski's shoulder and the cop could feel the electricity even through his jacket. Vecchio's other hand was slipping down the back of his t-shirt caressing his neck, his shoulders, loosening the muscles, digging in just enough so Kowalski could feel the pain, could feel the control that his partner had over him. Jesus! Kowalski couldn't move in case it drew attention to them and so he had to sit while Vecchio's fingers took possession of him. 

Suddenly Vecchio walked away from him and around the corner. Kowalski had no choice but to follow him but when he rounded that same corner Vecchio was gone. He was just about to go back to his desk when a door swung open and a hand grabbed him and hauled him into the closet. Vecchio! He was right, the man was stronger. And then Vecchio was kissing him, was tearing the clothes from his body, was inside him. 

"Ray stop!" The words were ragged, torn from his throat as Vecchio buried himself inside Kowalski; each painful thrust making the man gasp a little louder. 

"You like this," Vecchio muttered, one hand in Kowalski's hair, the fingers of the other hand digging painfully into his chest. "Fraser ever do this to you? Did he ever take you like this?" 

"No." The word was more of a strangled scream and Kowalski realized that in actual fact he didn't want to be here. I should have gone after Fraser. And then with Vecchio still thrusting into him Ray Kowalski leant his head against the wall and started to cry. 

His tears didn't seem to bother Vecchio, if anything they were arousing the man even more. Then it was over, Vecchio withdrew, zipped his pants closed, patted Kowalski on the rump and then he was gone leaving Stan alone in the dark. 

"Ray. Ray." It was Fraser's voice calling to him but Kowalski didn't move. How could he face Fraser after what had just happened? "Ray." The door handle twisted and a Mountie-shaped silhouette insinuated itself around the door. 

"Ben! No don't!" Ray could see Fraser stretching a hand out towards the light switch. "Why did you leave?" It was suddenly important to know where Fraser had gone. 

"It was the box of donuts." 

"Vecchio's donuts?" 

"It reminded me that you hadn't had any breakfast and you really shouldn't eat too much sugar in the morning so I went to..." 

"You went to get me breakfast?" 

"Yes Ray." 

Kowalski was shaking with relief and he didn't notice when Fraser reached out for the light switch. 

"Ray!" The cop was a mess, his eyes red and swollen, an unexplained smudge of dirt on his left cheek, but that wasn't the worst thing. Fraser slowly took in Ray's state of undress, the scratches on his chest, everything. 

"You worked with Vecchio for a while." Ray was trying to ignore the look in Fraser's eyes. 

"Yes I did, in actual fact..." 

"Fraser!" 

"Oh I beg your pardon." 

"He's a good man." 

"Yes. Yes he is." Fraser titled his head, the concern in his eyes growing. It was obvious that Ray had been assaulted but who by? 

"And when you were with him..." 

"Ray I don't want him if that's what you're thinking." Fraser took his lover's hands as though that would strengthen the conviction in his voice. 

"No Frase, I didn't..." And right there, standing in the closet with a Mountie clutching onto his hands Ray told Fraser exactly what had happened between him and Vecchio. 

Fraser didn't interrupt. The expression on his face didn't even change. Then he'd finished and somehow Fraser had Ray in his arms, holding him as if he would never let the man go. 

"Are you okay?" 

Ray gulped and the tears started to his eyes. He didn't know if he'd ever be okay again. 

"Oh Ray." Fraser helped the trembling man to dress and then swung the closet door open and led Ray out to where Vecchio was lounging, feet up on his desk. 

"Ray," Fraser put out a hand and halted Kowalski's advance. "I wonder if you wouldn't mind getting me a cup of chamomile tea." 

"Sure." Kowalski turned obediently and wandered off to the lunchroom. 

"Are you working on anything new?" Fraser folded his arms across his chest and smiled easily at Vecchio. 

"Small time fraud," Vecchio shrugged, "you want details." 

"Would you be interested in investigating something else?" Fraser's eyes were gleaming dangerously. 

"Sure. What is it?" 

"It's a sexual assault case, possibly rape." 

"Benny," Vecchio interrupted, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful but female detectives tend to handle those cases." 

"In this instance," Fraser continued undaunted, his voice cold, "the victim's male." 

"Male?" Vecchio looked up then, straight into those angry blue eyes. "I..." 

"You hurt him," Fraser was not modulating his voice and Vecchio glanced around nervously, "you raped him." Fraser swallowed hard, fighting the urge to bury his fist in Vecchio's face. "Friendship Ray," Fraser's anger suddenly modulated into grief, "I thought you understood what it meant. I'm sorry I was wrong." Fraser turned and walked away to join Kowalski in the lunch room and he didn't look back. 

The End 

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End Friendship by Lucy Britt:

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